


The Glow of Loved Ones Near

by estelraca



Category: Kamen Rider Blade
Genre: Christmas, Getting Together, M/M, Post-Kamen Rider Zi-O
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27995796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estelraca/pseuds/estelraca
Summary: Hajime never expected to be human, and there are some things he intensely dislikes about it.On the other hand... he never expected to have a real family, and he could get used to this very easily.
Relationships: Aikawa Hajime/Kenzaki Kazuma
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22
Collections: Another Toku Holiday Special (2020)





	The Glow of Loved Ones Near

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SleepySapphire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySapphire/gifts).



> I loved all of your prompts but I couldn't not write this one. We've been waiting years for Kenzaki and Hajime to get a happy ending, and if Zi-O did nothing else, at least it gave us this.

_The Glow of Loved Ones Near_

Hajime is human.

He spends a few minutes just staring down at his hands, turning them over. It shouldn't be so strange—he's spent decades pretending to be human, after all. He's chased humanity like it was the prize at the end of the rainbow, something impossible and wonderful.

And now here it is. Now it's not just a mask he wears, something to put over the Joker's horror to make it more palatable, less deadly and dangerous. Now he really _is_ what he's pretended to be for Amane—what Kenzaki was before Kenzaki sacrificed everything for him.

“Hajime?” Kenzaki repeats his name quietly, and Hajime realizes he's been saying it for the last minute or so, just a quiet repetition every few seconds.

“I...” Hajime has to gasp in a breath, the _ore_ trying to stick in his throat. “I'm human.”

“Yeah.” Kenzaki smiles, and there's something tentative about the expression that Hajime doesn't think would have been there yesterday.

Something that _couldn't_ have been there yesterday, because yesterday Kenzaki, like him, was a monster just pretending to wear human skin.

“I'm human.” This time the simple sentence comes out in a rush. “I'm _human_.” There's nothing in his chest pushing him, trying to get him to fight, to kill, to tear into those he wants to protect.

“You're human.” Kenzaki has settled back on his heels, leaving a body's breadth between himself and Hajime. “And so am I.”

“We can...” Hajime can feel his heart beating in his chest, and it is not the heart that was there moments ago. This form that he wears now matches the body underneath, and it is beautiful and it is terrifying and he doesn't know what it's going to _mean_.

“We can do anything.” Kenzaki holds out his hand, an open offer. “So let's go home.”

Hajime reaches out tentatively, settling his hand in Kenzaki's and allowing Kenzaki to pull them both to their feet.

A moment later something plows into him from behind, and it's only the familiarity of the weight that keeps him from doing something foolish like attacking.

“You're all right.” There are tears on Amane's face. “You're both _here_ and you're all right.”

Kenzaki smiles, and this expression—this gift to Amane—is like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. “We're all going to be all right, I think.”

Hajime smiles tentatively, the expression still foreign on his face—more foreign now than ever before, even if his face is actually _right_ for it now.

Amane clings to him with one arm, reaches out to grab Kenzaki with the other and hold him close. Tears continue to roll down her cheeks.

They're all together.

They're all human.

For the first time in a long time, Hajime feels like going home is an option.

***

The world disappears into a set of snapshots, little moments that drive home to Hajime that everything is _different_.

They gather his things and move him into Amane's house. He protests at first, not wanting to impose, but both Amane and Kenzaki tell him he's being ridiculous, and since he can't think of a logical counter to that he gives up on trying.

He gets tired. He hadn't expected it—hadn't been prepared for it. He's been left as a young, fit human, but his human body is still not nearly as strong and durable as his Joker one was. As they're finishing up moving his belongings, he goes to lift a box—not even a heavy box, just one with camera equipment and photos—and finds that he simply... can't.

He tries, and something in his back twinges, and instead of rising up the box just... sits there.

Unmoving.

Unaffected by his will.

Kenzaki finds him there and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Hajime looks up at the man he has missed so dearly—the man who was willing to sacrifice this frail humanity for Hajime's sake. “I don't know how to be human.”

“I'm not sure I do anymore, either.” Kenzaki's lips flip into a small, sad smile. “But we'll both figure it out together. One step at a time.”

“I can't lift a box.” Hajime looks down at his hands, and they are not wondrous now. They are _terrifying_ , so easily broken and damaged, so hard to repair. “I'm too tired to _lift a box_.”

“Hey, it's all right.” Kenzaki's fingers tighten on Hajime's shoulder. “We've been doing a lot of physical stuff today. Give it an hour or so and you'll be fine.”

Hajime's panic fades slightly. He knows how to be patient and wait. Every predator does.

And he still has a predator's mind, centuries of a predator's instincts, even if he doesn't have a predator's body anymore.

Hajime releases his hold on the box, instead grasping onto Kenzaki's hand, gripping it tight.

Kenzaki grasps his fingers in return, and then Kenzaki does something Hajime hadn't expected—he leans forward, resting his forehead against Hajime's head.

Hajime stands frozen, unsure what to do, his whole body tingling and warm and utterly confused.

Amane finds them there a minute or two later, and they go back to unpacking, but that moment stays seared in Hajime's mind for months.

***

They move Kenzaki into an apartment not far from Amane's place.

Hajime is more used to his body by then. He's better able to pace himself, and he isn't utterly useless and noodle-armed at the end of the day.

Hajime surveys the small space and the smaller number of boxes that are currently occupying it. Hajime had lived sparsely, not collecting much over the course of his years in solitude; Kenzaki must have lived practically as an ascetic monk, his belongings packed easily into one truck and well within the capability of one man to move alone.

He hadn't needed to move alone, though.

“Thank you.” Hajime stands awkwardly next to Kenzaki in the middle of Kenzaki's new living room, not sure how to say what he wants. _Thank you for giving up so much for me. Thank you for loving me enough to tolerate this. Thank you for being human even when you weren't._ “For... for everything. I'm sorry...”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Kenzaki's voice is soft and distant, and it takes a moment for his eyes to track to Hajime and focus. When they do, though, he frowns. “No, I take that back. You _do_ have something to be sorry for. Be sorry you didn't use every moment you had with Amane and the others until I came back.”

“I was...” Hajime frowns, the word that is true sticking in his throat. How does he say he was _afraid_ , when he doesn't even want to admit it to himself? “I did the best I could.”

Kenzaki continues to frown at him, and then he smiles, a quick flicker of his old, familiar expression. “That I believe. You're not very good at giving less than a hundred percent of your attention to something you decide to do.”

“And I'm doing better now. I'm...” Hajime finds himself looking down at his human hands again. “I'm handling this whole species change thing rather well.”

Kenzaki actually laughs, and it's such an unexpected sound—such a _welcome_ sound—that it makes Hajime startle and jump.

Amane comes in, carrying a bag of fast food. Her own grin lights up the room as she watches the two of them. “What joke did I miss?”

Kenzaki stops laughing, his eyes fixed on the bag of food. “Just teasing Hajime for being ridiculous.”

“I am not—”

“He is, isn't he?” Amane smiles fondly at Hajime. “But that's the way we like him. He wouldn't be himself if he wasn't.”

“I don't see what's ridiculous about finding it weird to have your whole life turned upside down. To go from immortal to very mortal, and from being a... a...” Hajime's right hand lifts, balling the fabric over his heart into a fist. “A _monster_ to being something so small and fragile and _wondrous_...”

Amane's hand slides into his left one, and she presses a small, chaste kiss to his right cheek. “You've always been wondrous, Hajime. It's just now you're actually able to see it, too.”

Hajime sighs, giving his head a shake. But he doesn't try to take his hand away from Amane, and when Kenzaki touches him, he leans into it instead of away.

He is human, and he is among people who love him.

Even if he doesn't understand why, he will cherish both these things.

***

The year changes more rapidly than he feels it should.

Part of it is having a steady work schedule. Amane doesn't want him disappearing again, so although she insists he take some time to continue his photography work, she also requests his help in the cafe.

Kenzaki starts working there part-time too after he's been in town two weeks. He seems as confused about how this happened as Hajime was about how it first happened with him, and it gives Hajime a moment of smug satisfaction.

Then there are just... weeks. Weeks of calm, and peace, and small normal worries that everyone has. Weeks where some customers are wonderful, and others are irritating, and a few are so awful he almost regrets not being able to summon claws that could tear apart their cars.

Weeks of little snapshot moments, of Kenzaki's hand on his shoulder, Kenzaki's head resting against his back, Kenzaki tipping the chair back too far and clattering to the ground in a groaning heap of surprise and embarrassment.

Weeks of Amane smiling, and Kenzaki laughing more and more, and is this what it means to be a family? Is this what it means to be human?

Yes, his instincts say; _yes_ , the years of research he did say. This is what he was _fighting_ for, and what he deprived himself of when Hajime sacrificed to _get_ it for him, and now...

Now he doesn't ever want to let it go.

Summer gives way to fall, and fall gives way to winter.

Kenzaki touches him more. Just small things, little moments of contact between their hands, little looks that result in one or both of them smiling.

Hajime wonders, briefly, if they're courting. He knows it's not common among men in Japan, but he also knows it happens, and if it were to happen with anyone...

Amane is the one who broaches the topic. “Do you want me to hang some mistletoe?”

Hajime blinks, pausing in his attempts to get grease out of one of their pans. “What does mistletoe have to do with anything?”

“People are supposed to kiss under it at Christmas.” Amane elbows him, not pausing at all in her drying of the dishes. “Come on, you know about Christmas. We celebrated it when I was little. Presents, songs, Kentucky Fried Chicken, mistletoe...”

“There definitely wasn't mistletoe when you were young. There was talk of Santa Clause, but no mistletoe.”

“Well, no. I was a little young for mistletoe.” Amane laughs, smiling fondly at him. “But I'm not now. And you and Kenzaki _definitely_ aren't. I just figured it might save you a little bit of time in this excruciatingly slow dance the two of you are doing.”

“I don't think we're dancing.” Hajime knows about dancing. He has danced with both Amane and Kenzaki, as they are cleaning up after the day is done or when they're getting things ready in the morning. He's come to _enjoy_ dancing, just as he's coming to enjoy this new body of his in general.

“You're definitely dancing. Or at least... you look like you are.” Amane's hands hesitate. “If you don't want to be, or if you... I just want you to be happy, Hajime. I've spent so long just wanting you to be happy, and if there's something that's making you unhappy, or that you want or that you don't want or—”

Hajime holds up a soapy hand, pressing one finger to Amane's lips. “You've given me more than anyone would ever have a right to hope for. You're my friend, and always have been. Kenzaki... I don't know. I've seen human mating rituals. We... might be enacting one? I don't know if I want to. I know that I don't _not_ want to.”

Hajime flushes, turning back to his work. That may be the most words he's spoken in one go... ever, possibly.

“Then I'm putting mistletoe up. And I'm getting us Kentucky Fried Chicken for Christmas Eve. And we're all going to have a good time.” Amane slams her dry pot down on the counter with more force than necessary. “We're going to be happy if it kills us.”

Hajime frowns. “I'd really rather it didn't.”

Amane laughs, and after a moment Hajime does too.

This is going to be his first Christmas as a human, and he intends to make it a good one.

***

What do you get for the man who sacrificed his life and his dreams for you?

What do you get for someone who you might be courting—the first time you've ever courted anyone in the history of the planet?

Hajime spends more hours than he should wandering through stores and malls, hoping to find something that seems like it will fit.

In the end he ends up going with what he's certain of. He buys a frame, and he prints off pictures, and he creates a collage of their lives over the last few months.

He wraps the present in blue and silver paper, not sure if it will be a welcome reminder of the past or a painful one, wanting to have those memories present either way.

They may have saved each other from damnation, but that doesn't mean that hell never existed.

Amane closes the cafe early, turning the radio to a local station that is playing Christmas music. The music that is played is a combination of familiar classics, new pop, and foreign language songs that Hajime thinks fit this holiday perfectly.

Hajime worked the evening shift; Kenzaki didn't. It means that Hajime is there when Kenzaki walks in, and he's able to watch Kenzaki freeze, the other Rider's eyes automatically rising to the threat hanging above him.

Granted, the threat is just a sprig of green leaves, but Hajime has been devouring Christmas media over the last three weeks, and he's well aware of how threatening those leaves can be.

Kenzaki's mouth twitches as he looks up at the mistletoe. “Is Amane expecting anyone special?”

Hajime shakes his head, approaching his old friend warily. “Not Amane. Though she was the one who recommended it.”

Kenzaki looks between the mistletoe and Hajime again. “ _You're_ expecting someone special? Who?” A look of hurt flashes across Kenzaki's face. “And when did you meet them?”

Hajime spends three seconds just staring at Kenzaki, studying the man in confusion. Then he gives his head a shake. “You never were the smartest of us. Just the most stubborn and the kindest.”

Kenzaki frowns, arms crossing over his chest. “I'm not stupid, and it's a perfectly reasonable question. I thought this little party was just you and me and Amane, since Tachibana can't make it. So who else is—”

Hajime moves. He's not as swift as he would have been when he was Joker, but he's fast enough. He catches Kenzaki off guard, and then he does what any predator would do—he takes advantage of Kenzaki's confusion.

He presses his lips to Kenzaki's, holding Kenzaki's head by the hair, hoping he's doing this right.

The kiss starts off all wrong, and Hajime finds himself worried that he's doing something he shouldn't be. Surely all those novels and television shows and movies aren't making such a big deal out of _this—_ an uneven, sloppy, wet pressing of lips against one another.

Then Kenzaki moves, and Hajime remembers that he, too, was a predator for a long while as Kenzaki's fingers bury themselves in Hajime's hair, and Kenzaki's mouth moves, and _oh_ , yes, _this_ must be what it's supposed to be. This warmth, this tenderness, this bubbling inside Hajime's chest, the tingling that runs from his lips down to the tips of his fingers... he could understand why people would get excited about this.

When they break apart, they're both breathless, and neither one lets go of the other's hair.

Kenzaki draws a steadying breath. “You're right. I'm not the smartest one in our group.”

“Neither am I.” Hajime runs his tongue over his lips, shivering. “I don't—was that—”

“That's exactly what it should have been.” Kenzaki leans forward, resting their heads against one another. “I've wanted... for a long time... but I didn't think...”

Hajime smiles. “You never do.”

Kenzaki gives a gentle, playful tug on Hajime's hair. “I didn't think you would want me. I didn't think it would be fair. But if you're going to go to the trouble of setting all this up...”

“It's just a bit of mistletoe.” Hajime swallows, his throat feeling too tight. “It's nothing compared to everything else we've done for each other.”

“You're right.” Kenzaki draws a breath. “I'm going to kiss you again, all right?”

Hajime just nods, and the two of them return to the task of learning each others' very human bodies.

Hajime doesn't know how long it is before Amane is clearing her throat behind them. Not long enough, he knows; he would like several more hours to kiss Kenzaki and perhaps figure out doing more.

More than long enough, because this holiday, though it has a portion set aside for lovers, is also about family.

Amane is smiling when they look at her. “Congratulations, you two.”

Kenzaki grins, looking like the cat that ate the canary. “You're wicked and we love you.”

Amane laughs. “Let's have dinner and exchange gifts.”

They've gotten each other simple things as presents—blankets, pillows, pictures. Amane got him an outfit that's almost exactly like one she gave him when he was her defender and she was the human child showing him how a heart was supposed to work; Kenzaki got him a thick blue blanket that he embroidered the Chalice symbol onto the corners of.

They're embracing the past, but gently, carefully, helping each other do so without getting cut on the sharp edges.

When they're done opening gifts, Amane turns on the music and they dance. She taught him to dance, once upon a time; now her head can rest on his shoulder, but the feel of her hands in his is still gloriously familiar.

And Kenzaki...

Hajime can hold him. Hajime can rest against him, _press_ against him.

Hajime can kiss him, and the only fire he feels at the close contact is a desire to kiss him _more_.

They can dance, and Kenzaki can land them under the mistletoe, and they can kiss again.

Amane doesn't say anything. She just smiles, watching them as she nibbles on a drumstick.

“We're _home_.” Hajime whispers the words into Kenzaki's ear.

“ _We're_ home,” Kenzaki whispers back.

They kiss one last time, and then Hajime breaks away, heading back to Amane and the bucket full of greasy food.

They're together at Christmas, the three of them—a broken family, one that had to wait for too long to come together, but beautiful nonetheless.

Hajime watches Kenzaki grab Amane's hand and spin her into a dance, Amane flailing the chicken still in her hand as she laughs and tells him to wait.

He hopes they will have many, many more Christmas celebrations to come, but whether they do or they don't, he knows this snapshot of being human will stay with him forever.


End file.
